Politics as Usual
by ChaosKirin
Summary: A very short look into the lives of Nathan and Heidi Petrelli. Heidi hangs onto his every word. How can she not?


"Were you there?" She leaned over the back of the couch, glancing down at the newspaper he was reading. Something political, something fairly boring. Even if Heidi could appreciate it sometimes, it wasn't as if she was glued to the television, or the newspaper, or the radio, as the case was.

Nathan grunted.

"Well?" She nodded toward the image on low volume, playing the news from Times Square where ... Things happened. Namely gunfire in this case, and he hadn't arrived home until afterward. Heidi worried. She worried, because he made himself a target, even if his life revolved around stuff like this. So even if she didn't really pay attention to the political scene, when he was out, she almost always had the radio on – just a little.

"I was out before it happened," Nathan finally answered, conceding his wife's desire for conversation by lowering the paper marginally, looking over his shoulder, and smiling. "No one was hurt anyway. Heidi, I'm running for Senate, you're going to have to deal with this- It's not just going to go away because you want it to. I'm fine, you're fine, everyone's okay, I promise.

He raised the paper upward again so that he could more easily read it. A handful of seconds later, Heidi sat down next to him, gave him that look she always did when she wanted to have a Serious Talk, and glared at him with eyes that were too blue to be possible. The thing about Heidi was, she knew a lot more than he wanted her to. Accidentally, of course; it wouldn't have been Nathan's choice to drag his family into all this, but they were here now, and avoiding such topics of conversation neared impossible on days like this.

"What."

"Look. I just want to- For a few minutes. Please?"

"I told you everything I know." He had to lower the paper again, though, as she stared at him along the side of it, somewhat through the entire section on why Democracy in America was slipping, and alongside an advertisement for some wedding chapel down in Queens. He tried to focus on that. If he held out a little longer...

There . The brief sigh. Quiet, inaudible except for the fact that Nathan was listening for it. "Well, just let me know when you want to talk, okay?" she said, patting his knee, finally standing. Heading to the kitchen, probably, to make coffee, get ready for bed, the usual. It wasn't what he wanted to say - which was essentially nothing at all - but talking to her was out of the question. He had to keep her and the boys as safe as possible for as long as possible, and the fact that he'd been there when the weapon went off - it would make her nervous. The fact that someone died would set her on edge, and as Heidi had told him before, he couldn't just hide himself away just because people were targeting the Evolved among them. Who knows what the man who died could do? Nathan's only talent outside of the political scene was that he could fly. That, and play a decent game of golf, take care of his kids - even that seemed to be slipping away now, the more he thought about it. Maybe...

"Heidi?"

No answer.

He folded the paper, setting it on the table in front of him. Emulating her sigh, he leaned back, pressing his hands to his forehead. Having literally dodged a bullet, the only thing in which Nathan could rest assured tonight was the fact that there were people covering it up. No one other than a select few people would know there'd been a deliberate assassination, and the less Heidi heard, the better.

* * *

There was more to it than that, Heidi thought to herself, sitting on the edge of the bed, toes just touching the floor. Rocky patches in the last year drove them apart, brought them back together, and made her wonder if this could be where she really belonged. Every time, she answered yes, but the secrets never ended, and they wouldn't.

Just barely, she picked up Nathan's voice from downstairs - her name. By the time she reached the first floor, though, he'd have thought up something to tell her, and she'd believe it - she always did - and that would be the end of it.


End file.
